Right now I'm reading through a book called The Nature of Metals. I found it randomly at the library while hunting around for the cookbook section. It's an older book (published in the early '60s) that's about halfway between a textbook and a general interest book. I really like it since there's a TON of pictures of what the author's talking about. I'm really learning a lot more about basic materials characterization and the fundamentals you never really learn in school and are instead expected to just learn on the job.
I'm also about 2/3 of the way through
Blue Highways. It's a pretty decent road-trip novel. Basic outline for his reason to go is his wife served him with divorce papers and he lost his job as an English professor within a few days of each other, and he says "Fuck this shit" and goes on a roadtrip with his rape van and something like $250. The chapters where he's talking to people are fantastic, while the ones that are just him waxing masturabatorically about how he's looking for this deeper meaning are complete trash (and obviously the failed English professor in him trying to come out). It's an alright book, but the last book I read, Desert Solitare, was much more thought provoking.
Jam it back in, in the dark.